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. What's going on? Is the little fellow dead?"
"Beats the hell out of me," Xris said, baffled. "At first I thought his face was smashed in. Now I'm beginning to think he was just born this way."
Kneeling beside the body, Xris put his hand on what he presumed was the neck. He thought he could feel a pulse, but if so, it was faint and thready.
He glanced swiftly around the bathroom, looking for a towel to stanch the bleeding, saw an object on the counter.
His lips tightened. He changed his mind about the towel. Shoving the lasgun into its holster, he went back to the bedroom, yanked a blanket off the bed, returned to the bathroom. He worked swiftly, trying to be gentle, but aware that time was ticking away.
Time for the job. Time for the Little One's life.
He wrapped the small, bloodied body in the blanket, lifted it easily in his arms. Making certain the blanket covered every part of the Little One, Xris carried the empath out of the hotel room. He took the stairs again, figuring the odds of meeting anyone on the fire escape were slim.
"Harry, I'm coming out. I've got the Little One with me. See if you can distract that doorman."
"No need to worry, Xris," Harry returned. "I think he's gone to get the cops."
Xris made it down the stairs and out the door, practically knocked over a couple entering the building. They looked at him and his burden in startled surprise
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